Out Of Our Hands
by YoflamRettopReverof
Summary: Series One: Harry & Draco angst. Each chapter is a new one shot.
1. Smile: It's Not My Blood

**Author's Note** - Hey fan's! I decided to make a series, YAY, right! Right. I hope you all enjoy it. It's basically my way of writing all the pairings I want to in the world & getting my ideas out in a meaningful way :) Please R/R the series, along with the chaps. ily.

**Beta's Note** - WHERE IS THE FLUFF! WHERE IS THE BUTT SEX! I like this story. Go read Twirl :

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**Smile: It's not my blood**

Being a student at Hogwarts was long over, but the war that had started before my birth was still peaking. Voldemort had returned and in my fourth year, his minion, Peter Pettigrew exterminated Cedric Diggory with the killing curse. In my fifth year his disciple Bellatrix succeeded in killing the only remaining family I had left, Sirius Black. She fired a spell at him and he flew backwards. He was stationary in mid air and his face was all twisted like he was terrified. He fell and disappeared, never to be seen again. In my sixth year, his crony Severus Snape murdered the headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore. I think I find it almost comical that the big bad, has all of his supporters do his dirty work for him.

It's been about thirty minutes and time is running out. I know if I had fingers instead of webbed hands and feet I would feel pruned. The Order, members of the light and myself have been under a frosty like substance of water, breathing normally with the help of gillyweed and the bubblehead charm. This was our plan: we would use charms and potions to stay under water until the appropriate moment arrived when we would rise and slaughter off the remainder of our enemies.

My body now numb was making me lose my concentration, making me revert to old memories of a certain blonde haired Slytherin. I can't seem to get the images of us together out of my mind. At first we were so violently innocent, but we soon became innocently in love. We physically fight against eachother while we emotionally love eachother. I start to remember the first song we had ever danced to. The lyrics haunting my mind as their deep meaning resembled everything of the past, present and what would sadly be my upcoming future. I begin to hum the melody as the lyrics float so easily through my mind…

_Can't close my eyes  
They're wide awake  
Every hair on my body  
has got a thing for this place  
Oh empty my heart  
I've got to make room for this feeling  
so much bigger than me_

_It couldn't be any more beautiful - I can't take it in._

I look around hastily, the taste of blood flowing into my mouth and down my throat. I can smell it, as I taste it. I could never describe the smell if you were to ask me, nor the taste. Seeing nothing but shades of red I know this could mean only one thing: my assemblage had been found and killed quickly. I start to panic. I cannot leave for I wouldn't be able to breathe because of the gills. Looking at a sea of blood starts to depress me and I feel I would be crying if not surrounded by water. I watch as the blood seeps through my clothes, none of which is mine by the way. It seems odd that I have not yet been killed. I start to consider there may be other survivors. I feel relieved in knowing that I only have to overcome this for a remainder of ten more minutes.

I try to think of ways to calm myself. I can only think of one. I begin to hum the remainder of our song…

_Weightless in love...unravelling  
For all that's to come  
and all that's ever been  
We're back to the board  
with every shade under the sun  
Let's make it a good one_

Bright red and green flashes flowing though the cold blood alarm me, stopping me from humming the last line. I start to feel a change and know I can arise to the surface of the freezing water mixed with blood. After all, there is no point in staying under any longer then I have to. I reach land and use a spell to remove the seeping blood from my clothes. Flashing light eliminates my time, and I am unable to succeed in a dry spell.

I start to run soaked and cold with my wand out and ready. As I thought, there were few survivors from the lake, but they seemed to have died off when arriving on land. I feel and recognize that I am now the only one left. I twirl around, looking at the swarm of Death Eaters surrounding me, and their leader. This is my time. My moment. I will live, or I will die.

I stare at the snake like creature hovering behind his most loyal subordinate underlings. He throws a Death Eater to the ground in front of me. He is small, and I feel my stomach tightening. The figures mask vanishes and I am now looking at the familiar face of the man I love more then anything else in the wizarding world. Voldemort yells, 'traitor.' I hear a spell, which is unfamiliar to me, and the white shirt I cleared of blood was once again covered in it. He didn't even scream. He was silent. The killing curse was initialized soon after, killing Draco Malfoy in one blow.

I look to the lifeless body of my lover. I smile. At least the blood on my shirt is not mine. I look around, watching all that is evil move in a ghostly manor. I am perfectly fine, which means…I have a chance. I raise my wand in my right hand towards the Dark Lord, and my left to his army. I smirk. It seems that wandless magic may finally be useful.

I kneel before the auburn lake and blue sky. I whisper my last words quietly, before waking up to what would probably be scorching sun the next morning, "It couldn't be any more beautiful - I can't take it in."


	2. Love

**Author's Note** – Aha, I thought of the idea to this fic in my beta's kitchen. Clearly, we get all of our best ideas there. Oh, and the bathrooms. We cannot forget about the inspirational bathrooms, now can we!

**Beta's Note** – GO READ TWIRL! GO READ TWIRL! GO READ TWIRL! GO READ TWIRL! GO READ TWIRL! After you read this, of course…

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**Love**

Our eyes lock about four meters away from eachother. We both smile at the familiar comfort. I start to gaze at the all too recognizable wardrobe. In mind, I am sure he is doing the same. He is wearing black trousers at a lose fit with a belt holding them up, which in addition is too big for him. He is wearing a slightly lighter shade of black hoodie, which I know by the texture will be just as soft and gentle as he is. His black hair is as unruly as ever and his glasses look to be broken again, but I start to think that it is just the cherry lighting being cast down on us from the trees being reflected in the sparkling azure water. This all being elicit with the help of the sun of course.

We walk the mere four meters between us and sigh with relief. This is expected. This is normal. This to us is everything, because this is our spot. He grabs me and holds me firmly on the middle of the wooden rainbow bridge. I sink into his arms as he lifts me up off the bridge in a spinning motion. Embracing me tighter. I hear his whispered affections and my heart begins to thaw out all over again.

My feet graze the mahogany wood and I know I've been expected to hold myself up as I previously have been doing my entire life. Well…not my whole life, but that is beside the point. I gaze into smouldering emerald eyes and my face descends into his warm hands as he innocently brushes my cheeks.

This action shows me nothing but truth from his previous affectionate words. He cups my face and pulls me in by my chin. If at all possible I step closer. Not knowing what to do with my hands I grasp his waste. Our lips coupled in a romantically memberable and passionate kiss.

I feel him slide away from me and I begin to ache at the loss of contact. It was as if he could read my thoughts and in doing so he curled up behind me, wrapping his larger form around my intact body.

We are still standing in the middle of the bridge but we're off to the edge, leaning over to look upon the horizon. A cool mist coming from the long branches touching the water is spraying us. It's a beautiful site, almost as beautiful as Harry. He instigates kissing my neck sensitively and I lean into him, moaning softly.

He starts to speak to me in whispered words…

"You know I would make love to you right here, right now, correct?"

I nod and smile to no one but myself. Harry is always sexually frustrated and willing to make love to me. Lusting after me, if you will.

"I just don't want our last day together to be about sex. I want our relationship to be about so much more. I want it to be everything, and at the same time nothing. I refuse to let our last day reside on it."

My eyes begin to water at his words and I try to make it seem as though my tears are forming from the bright sunset. The colours were amazing. I had never seen a more beautiful sky filled with ginger, scarlet, blood reds, and a flushed magenta. It looked to be on fire within the surrounding bluish purple-pink sky.

I slowly twist in his arms, facing him in a boisterous way. He is about to wipe away my tears but I bring his hands towards my chest along with my own. "You want it to be about love." I say bluntly. I have said the word many times, but he has never once said it in return. I fear that he never will.

I probably would have seen the look of sadness on his face that I could feel radiating from him if it weren't for my unstoppable tears. I kept my eyes shut, avoiding his sorrow. He is about to speak but instead I smile, turn and am generous enough to let the unsaid words go. I just hope that someday he will be able to phrase the three notes he is prolonging to say and I smile at the thought. Maybe, just maybe he would voice them after the war.

We spend the remainder of our evening in eachother's arms: smiling, laughing, conversing about meaningful and non-meaningful things, we spend time enjoying silence and we spend time crying. Ok, so the crying was mostly on my part, but who can blame me!

We are sprawled out on the bridge. My back is beginning to hurt from the position. We've been gazing at stars. I turn when hearing my name. It was faint, so I'm unsure if it was really said.

"Draco…"

I hear my name from his gorgeous lips and am sure by the look on his face that what he has to say is important.

"I-I…" he starts to mumble.

I instantly know what he is trying to say. I put the tips of my fingers to his lips and shake my head in such a small movement I'm unsure he sees it. "Please don't." I say to him, sure I do not want to hear it in this subtext after all this time.

His emerald eyes glisten in confusion.

"Please don't say something you know I want to hear. Just say what you mean, and feel."

His eyebrows shot up in surprise and his face quickly alternated to an emotion I cannot say I've seen on his face before. "Dido." He replies, kissing me before I could react to his kind love.

We make a pact to come here as soon as the battle is over, and nothing will stop us.

The cry of war finally divides us and we go our separate ways. Little does he know that I am looking back, watching him walk away from me, and what could very well be our last night together.

It is five years, six months, two days, five hours, twenty-seven minutes and nineteen seconds later. The war ended within a week. I am making my way to the bridge to see the love of my life. I have still not seen him since we parted. I am sure, absolutely, positively sure, that this is going to be the best day of my life.

I am standing at my end of the bridge waiting. Silently waiting. I look at the scenery thus being hypnotized by its familiar beauty. There is no doubt that alot of time has gone by and the place has been significantly bombarded. What use to be a ray of indescribable colour is now a greyscale! I sigh heavily. It's still as beautiful as the first time Harry and I discovered it.

I quickly turn to the sound of snapping twigs. I smile. It's him. It's my Harry. Tears start to trickle down my face and I am now overwhelmed by built up anticipation. My body starts to quiver and I move fast, not wanting to let him go again. I run to meet the man I love in the middle of our bridge. I yearn to hold him. Just as I reach out to grab him and entangle him in a tight embrace, he disappears, my mind being filled with an echo of I love you' he never said.

I instantly begin to hate myself for not letting him say it. Why couldn't I let him say he loved me, even if it was just because he knew I wanted to hear it?

_One day this won't be a dream._

_I'll come to you._

_You'll come to me._

_You won't just be my memory._

_You will be real._

_And I'll be able to feel you._

_Because you are alive, not dead,_

_But for now, I will take what I can have,_

_And that is all that I am, and get._

I finish gazing upon the stars. It is now the exact time five years, six months, three days, six hours, twenty-eight minutes and twenty seconds ago I watched him walk away from me. I smirk at the thought. I only have to repeat this routine until the day I am able to be in his arms once more and hear his stunning voice say… '_I love you, Draco._'


	3. Catch Me When You Fall

**Author's Note** – I've had this idea in my head for years now! I just hope no one assumes it's related to Twirl, by DropDeadLlama in any way…cause it's NOT, although you all should read that one ;) Please don't be offended by some of the stereotypical stuff mentioned. The song used is, "Hate Me, by Blue October." And OMG Hayley so just burned like 11 or more CD's for me and she is gunna write me a LONG letter, and send it to me, so basically…SHE'S FUCKING HxC! She lives in Cali, and I'm in Kit! SO FAR AWAY! This one-shot is so DEDICATED to her! It's not even funny. Omg, I am evil. She is sending me stuff, and I dedicate the happiest/saddest fic I have ever written to her, lmao. Anywho…please ENJOY!

**Beta's Note** – Where's my dedication bitch? I'll kill you. Fuck editing. If it weren't already done I'd refuse to do it. & I don't care what you say…this is way like Twirl. **DropDeadLlama **

**Author's 2nd Note** – Aha, yeah…it is kind of Twirl'ish, but that's ok. I can be un-unique for once. HOW DID YOU KNOW I WAS GUNNA DEDICATE SOMETHING TO YOU! JERK! No more guessing for you, haha. Lmao ily. :)

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**One-Shot Catch Me When You Fall**

I pull my short leather jacket tighter, shivering as the rain continues to pour upon my slim frame. It's beating hard and I am completely soaked. My hair is drenched and I wonder why I spent so much frickin' time on it in the first place. It's the reason why I am running so late. I should have brought an umbrella, but as per usual I didn't for the fact that they're un-cool. I am on my way to the club. The same fuckin' club I goto every fuckin' Friday-night to pass the time. I probably would have stopped going if it weren't for my so-called leave-me-hanging-for-a-girl-the-first-chance-he-gets best friend, Blaise.

I turn the corner. I am halfway there. My shoes are sopping wet and I know I am going to hate dancing in them; hearing them squeak, leaving black streaks across the dance floor with their black soles. This has got to be the worst fucking day of my life. I awoke late with a hangover, had no time for my usual three S's: shit, shower and shave. I ran out of gel for my hair. I got fired. My car broke down. I have no change for the bus and I refuse all taxis. My friend's don't understand why I refuse them and to be honest I have no real reason. Maybe they are just too yellow or something. I have always hated the colours yellow and brown.

My walk seems to pick up and I am almost to the club. I turn yet another corner sharply which leads my gaze to the slightly large group of people a little way up the road. They all look about my age. It's an obvious group of gay guys who claim they're straight with their headphones around their necks, baggie t-shirts or muscle shirts and pants that hang half off there asses. Oh, and don't forget the bling-bling. Clearly, they're gangsta' or some such rubbish. It's obvious in the way they hold their dicks when they walk. I secretly think that's their way of making sure their bits and pieces are intact.

I am still shaking from the feeling of freezing water hitting me harder now as it continues to poor rapidly. The group appears to form a line as I walk by them. They stare at me like I am the fucking devil, whom has arisen to take their souls. That's right you little fucks! I am the prince of darkness…GIVE ME YOUR SOULS! You have to admit that when a group of people you don't even know hate you, you know you are the best.

In a moment's time, without even realising it, I had stepped into the club and had made my way to Blaise. Unfortunately, my cruel day didn't want to end anytime soon. Blaise nudged me, giving me his, 'I'll be back later' sign. I nodded in agreement.

I grabbed the scotch I apparently ordered and downed it quick. It burned my throat, but I loved the sensation. As I suspected my shoes made appalling sounds as I moved. I hooked my jacket up, and felt some relief in knowing that one thing was going well. My camera was safe. I took it from the large pocket bag I had been huddling inside my jacket the entire time here.

Photography had always been my passion and not my work. It's also another subject my friends do not understand about me. I take the cap of the lens and aim my camera to the live band on stage. It's some local band I have never heard of before, but I don't care. They are rocking the stage with a calm sound, making the club cronies move in slow motion. I continue to snap photos until the role of film expires. I toss in a new role and skim the room with my camera. I am spotting. That is my way of saying politely that I am nosy and a total people watcher. I can't help it. I breathe hard while the lens works it's way from person to person.

My camera stops. It's God: tan skin, black boots, black tight leather pants, a red silk shirt, black leather trench coat with higgledy-piggledy black hair and piercing emerald green eyes. I think I have just spotted the most gorgeous man on the planet. I continue to watch him through my camera. A man grabs him by the arm and yells. I watch my new object of affection yell back. I can tell this is a continued argument that has been going on for quite some time. I watch the rude mans lips move. I don't know much, but I do know alot about everything that is people. I am a people watcher. I know names, and I am pretty good with lip reading. I zoom in as much as I can to the lips. I find myself a tad bit creepy and I am betting that if anyone were to be watching me, they would call security on me for being a complete and utter sketch-bag.

The words: 'I never stopped loving you I just stopped showing it,' came from the what looked to be rough lips.

I start to choke a bit. What a fucking prick! I can't believe he just said that. My body is slowly making its way through the crowd. My camera is my eyes. I creep between moving bodies, slowly making my way to the beautiful man. I want more than anything to be able to talk with him. I drone out the music, hearing only the click of my camera shutter. I am rapidly clicking, taking as many photos of him as possible. Shit! Oh-fucking-mother-of-pearl-shit! I've lost him.

I bring my camera down, gazing over the dance floor with endless thoughts racing through my mind. What if this was my only chance? What if I never see him again? What if that bastard has done something terrible to him? A string is pulled to the lead guitar, my head spins, and I am standing awkwardly. My body is being pushed forward hard. Fuck! I am in the mosh pit. Fuck anything happening to Mr. Gorgeous! I-AM-GOING--TO--DIE!

Fucking sadistic bastards! Pushing and shoving the innocent. I refuse to take snapshots of them. I like how I make it sound like my pictures are the saviours to all that is living. I am sick of waiting for Blaise, sick of being pushed around and sick of this day, all together! I demand a refund on my day! Hell, my life! I am leaving this club as soon as possible.

I am thankful that my body is so unnourished and can slip pass the crowed. I make my way out. It is still raining but not as hard. My camera is waterproofed enough for the amount coming down. I leave it out, still wanting to take more pictures.

Noticing the darkness I now have my flash on. The night is pretty beautiful, regarding all the shit that has happened to me today. I am walking quickly, they hate me and it makes me feel good, so I take a picture of the group still aligned as I walk around the first corner.

I am now on the street, which is usually lonely, but tonight there is a gorgeous man dancing alone on it. I move slightly closer with my camera in hand and then stop, watching him move. He is conspicuous, his eyes are closed tight and I can hear him singing…

_"Hate me today,"_ he slides his feet across the wet road.

_"Hate me tomorrow,"_ he twirls.

_"Hate me for all the things I didn't do for you,"_ his voice is loud, rough, and groggy.

_"Hate me in ways,"_ he is hopping around in angered motions, his hands flailing around powerfully.

_"Yeah ways hard to swallow,"_ I thank god people aren't around, just so I can enjoy this alone. He is the most gorgeous and passionate person I have never really met. He is full of emotions and I want to know each one through and through. I hesitate before stepping closer, taking picture after picture.

_"Hate me so you can finally see what's good for you," _his long coat is swinging around and his black umbrella I hadn't noticed before is being tossed high into the air, flowing ever so slowly to the ground. He turns and somehow we are face to face. "Err, hi. Coffee? I want coffee. I like coffee." he asks me gently.

"Yes." I reply, trying to voice out my words more boldly. "Sorry to have interrupted you." I say, shyly?

He looks to me and smiles, "You didn't. I forgot the lyrics to the rest of the song." He say's truthfully as he chuckles a bit.

We walk in silence and I wonder what he is thinking. He leads me into the nearest coffee shop. He orders for us both and doesn't allow me to pay. He pulls a chair for me and I sit, kindly being pushed into the table. He sits across from me, and I am doing everything in my power not to just jump him right here and now. I can't help but feel complete around him. I think I just might have found my soul mate. The man who is going to complete my life. I want to be around him forever. I can smell him from across the table. He is intoxicating. He is fucking gorgeous. I think I might just cream my pants at the mere sight of him.

We are in an all hours coffee shop, so I am not surprised that we have not been kicked out yet. His name is Harry; he just broke up with his best friend and partner of five years, Ronald. I begin to get nervous at this information, but he made sure to clarify that it was wrong to begin with, and he is surprised it didn't end sooner. I am smiling, but fuck I shouldn't be! Smiling is so selfish and cruel. He smiles, fuck it! I think I love this man, and I barely even know him.

We go on for hours about our lives to one another. Sometimes there would be complete silence, but it wasn't awkward. It was comforting.

I gather from the way he talks, and asks questions that he is one of the most random men I have ever met. He also tells funny jokes, which is not important, but I can't deny the fact that I have been seriously lacking in the funny boyfriend department. My recent boyfriends have been total snorbs, or just one night stands, so I guess they wouldn't be referred to as boyfriends. I can't help but smile constantly around Harry. He is so powerful, and he doesn't even realize it. I never want this to end. I want to keep this feeling forever. I hope he will let me.

"So do you always stalk potentially new boyfriends?" He asks me suddenly.

I spit my warm coffee all over the table and choke. I am utterly shocked, "what do you mean by that?"

"The photo's…" he said in a trailed off tone, looking away.

I think I am panicking. "Sorry. I didn't mean to. I just can't stop myself sometimes." I smile widely, "you are gorgeous." I admit.

I watch as he sips his coffee, acknowledging the compliment, yet not saying anything as if he disagrees. Or maybe he agrees. Either way, I want to spend the rest of my life with a somewhat complete stranger, and it's beginning to freak me out. I don't think I can go back to not knowing him. I don't think I can live without him.

He stands and I feel myself panic. Where are you going! Don't go! What the fuck is happening? I think he realizes my fear, because he grips my shoulder and leans down. He kisses me on the cheek. My pants just got a little tighter, and I know I don't just love this man; I am in love with him.

He nips my ear and whispers, "I'm sick of sitting. Let's go out."

"Shit!" I voice out as I stub my foot into the table, getting up to follow him.

Were walking and talking. Our conversation is continued from the diner. I love the fact that once we are started on something we can't shut up. I am starting to get the feeling that he may like me, just as much as I like him.

I went into a full explanation about my photos and my intake on life. I tell him about how I am always trying to capture life in my photos. I've decided I want to capture him. My new goal, no mission, is to capture him in every way. I promise I am never going to let this man out of my site. It's only been one night and I have fallen hard. This can't be good, but I can't help but feel special and content.

"I think we should date more often." He whispers into my ear and holds me tightly in his arms. I feel my breathing pick up. Is this real? "I think…you should come back to my place, and I think we should just cuddle, lovingly." I am getting butterflies. I am spinning, literally. Harry has picked me up and is spinning me around the wet street. He is stepping through puddles and we are laughing. The rain is coming down lightly and it feels like a mist, but the best feeling is the sensation I am getting through my lips from Harry's own. He is kissing me and it is just as passionate as he is. It is the sweetest kiss I have ever known.

I think this is perfect. I think this is how life should be from now on. It should be like this for everyone. I feel him pull away, and he is staring at me with his intense emerald eyes. "I am really happy. I want to dance. I want you to capture me."

I think I am going to piss myself with glee. Fuck everything I said before! This is the _best _day of my life, and nothing is going to change it!

I start to snap, taking shot after shot of a very whimsical Harry. His dancing is amazing and he is so free spirited it's driving me mad with happiness. He is kicking water up from puddles, bringing more life into the photo. I think every clip I take of him is going to be so beautiful; I won't possibly have a favourite. I only wish we had a clip of the kiss we had just shared moments ago.

My camera is down a bit and I can feel my strong smile as I watch him, embracing this bliss period of our lives. I raise my camera again, and look through it. It is again my eyes. Harry is running and he jumps up off a curb, and as he does so his jacket is twisting around his body, gracefully flailing in the air as his umbrella had done earlier. I read his lips through my camera: I think…I love you.

I start snapping rapidly. I can't believe he just said what I have been thinking. I think my heart is beating so fast I'm going to have a stroke. He is still spinning, nearly touching the ground. His hand moves from his lips outward, blowing me a kiss. He does so with the biggest grin I have ever seen, facing me, and his back turned to the car that is now smashing into him.

I can hear the brakes, Harry's body being flipped over the dash to the opposite side of the car, his head hitting the ground hard. I would probably be dropping my camera to the ground, but I hit it first. I lied. Fuck everything I said before! This day has gone from terrible, to perfect, to the most fucking horribly retched day of my life. Harry is lifeless and blood is splattered from his head. I think a huge part of me has just died as well. I refuse to move. I am sitting in the puddle Harry swished as he spun me around. I refuse to move. I just lost my chance. I will never see him again, and I feel like I am the one who had hurt him. I refuse to move. It is my fault. If only I weren't taking pictures, maybe Harry would still be here with me. I wish we never left the diner. I refuse to move. The song he was screaming through the street in a blissful tune is for some reason echoing through my mind. I don't think I will ever forget it, or him. The lighting is perfect with flashing colours. I can't believe that even in death he is the most beautiful soul, and all I want to do is take clips of this moment. I hate myself. I am crying and I still refuse to move.


End file.
